


Dream On

by Lies_Unfurl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Episode: s12e19 The Future, Implied Relationships, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Season/Series 12, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 15:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lies_Unfurl/pseuds/Lies_Unfurl
Summary: After running off with Kelly, Castiel visits Dean in his sleep.





	Dream On

Dean opens his eyes. Right away, he knows that he’s dreaming. It’s been a long time since he’s had one like this, all heightened senses and hyper-realistic details. He’s been having nightmares all week, ever since… ever since. He thinks this might be worse.

He turns around slowly. A small grove surrounded by pink-flowered trees, not somewhere he recognizes. Probably around 1:00 in the morning. The sky glitters with stars, but no moon is visible.

An empty bench awaits. For a moment, he ponders being petulant. Just standing stubbornly and silently, not talking, not reacting. Refusing to make the first move.

He walks to the bench and sits, as if some greater power is tugging his strings. _As if in a dream_ he thinks, and almost laughs.

No time to. His ass has barely touched the wooden slats when Cas materializes next to him.

They sit in silence for a moment. A soft breeze sends pale pink petals spinning down onto them. Falling angels. 

Dean wants to think that it’s shame that makes Castiel stare straight ahead instead of looking at him, but he knows better. Knows that’s just how Cas is.

“I’m sorry about the Colt,” Castiel says. “If it’s in my power to fix it, I will.”

“You will, or that thing controlling you will?” Fuck subtlety, and fuck beating around the bush. It’s been over a week.

If Cas is distressed by the change in subject, he doesn’t show it. 

“He isn’t a ‘thing.’ _You_ are the ones who convinced me of that. For which I’m grateful,” he adds after a moment, as if there was no other way Dean could start feeling like shit. “I had ample opportunity to kill Kelly. Had you not made me realize the error of Heaven’s ways, I never would have been enlightened.”

Dean laughs, because what the fuck else is there to do? And it’s hard to stop once he begins. It goes on long enough that Castiel finally looks at him, a small frown breaking through the drugged-out sereneness Dean first noticed when Cas fixed his wrist.

“You didn’t see what I saw. I don’t expect you to understand right now. You will, in time.”

“Yeah? That right? What’d you see, Cas? Did the baby make you think he was just so goddamn _special_ that it doesn’t matter that he could blow up the universe with a thought?”

“He showed me that he _wouldn’t_ do that, and he showed me all the good he _will_ accomplish. Dean, this child is of Heaven, Hell, and Earth. He can unite the realms. End the conflict, once and for all. Isolate Hell, protect Earth, end the fighting in Heaven.”

“You really so desperate to have all your asshole brothers and sisters talking to you again, that you would let the spawn of Satan pop out with all his powers?” Low blow. He knows before the words leave his mouth. Doesn’t matter. He doubts there’s anything he can say to Cas that’d make him feel worse than Dean felt when he realized that the Colt was gone, that Cas was gone, that he hadn’t even cared about coming home. Just used him and Sam, and everything that lies between them, as a means to an end.

“I’ve watched hundreds of my siblings die in the past seven years. Many by my own hand. This child will be the Prince of Peace, the one who ensures that not one of us ever need fight the other. I’ve seen it.”

“It’s a good thing you were born an angel and not a human. You’re so gullible you’d be a fucking scientologist, you know?”

Cas tilts his head, frowning. Such a familiar expression. Dean wants to scream, or rip his knuckles open punching the rough bark of the trees over and over again, or maybe cry.

“Forget it. All I mean is…” he breathes, scrubs a hand over his face. He’s thought a lot about what to say. Still isn’t sure if his words are motivated by years of watching and knowing Cas, or by anger. There’s such a big difference that the two forces shouldn’t even be compatible. And still, the uncertainty.

Doesn’t matter. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and he’s going to say what he’s going to say.

“All I mean is that this isn’t all that unusual for you. I mean, you were pretty convinced that God would come ‘round and save the day during that first apocalypse. And that working with Crowley was a good idea. And that eating Purgatory would end all your problems. And then that Metatron would end all your problems. And that Lucifer would take out Amara’s ass. I’m probably forgetting a few, but you get the gist.” He shrugs, tasting bile in his mouth, and why can’t he have normal dreams?

“You gotta have faith in something. It’s like a drug to you. And druggies don’t always make the best decisions.”

Dean begins to shred the flowers that have fallen in his lap while he waits for Cas’s response. 

“It’s different this time,” Castiel says quietly. “I’m not trusting myself, and my flawed interpretations of the world. I’m trusting in a future that I _saw_. That I _experienced_.”

“You forgetting that time Zachariah showed me the future?” Dean hasn’t forgotten. If anything, it’s been on his mind more and more since he saw that look of total, blissed-out contentment that Cas wore when his pupils went from blue to gold (and what is it that keeps yellow eyes haunting him year after year after year? They take away Mary; he gets her back; and now they’ve taken Cas?). “Pretty easy to fake it.”

“No. You knew, even that, that it wasn’t real. Even as a human, you knew—”

“Oh, and because you’re an angel, it’s different? You really think you’d have any idea if it was lying to you? When you’re the one who’s said over and over again how fucking powerful it is?” 

He stands. The air smells overly sweet. He can see heavy seed pods hanging from the tree, swinging back and forth like bodies on a rope.

“If you need to have faith so badly, why can’t you have faith in me and Sam? And just trust that we know what’s best? Because no offense Cas, but when you’ve tried to fix things on your own, you usually just end up making them worse.”

He’s watching the flowers, not Cas. Can still see the hurt look that he wears.

“It won’t be like that this time. Dean, I promise you, on my life, that no hurt will come to you. Or Sam. Or anyone. Not at the hands of the child.”

Cas stands, and walks up behind him. It’s been so long since he was juiced-up enough for Dean to feel the electric hum of his powers just from standing close together.

“I’m not here to fight. When this is over, you’ll understand. I just needed to tell you that what I’m doing now, I’m doing for your sake.”

A breeze shakes down more petals. Dean doesn’t move, not even to brush them from his hair.

“Cercis Siliquastrum. The Judas tree. Your thoughts hang heavy with what you perceive as my betrayal. And I cannot pretend that doesn’t hurt. But we’re moving into a new era. One where you won’t have to hunt. You’ll be free. And if that freedom comes at the cost of our friendship, no matter how much it hurts me, it will have been worth it. For you.”

“I didn’t ask this. All I wanted was for you to stay. And that was too fucking much for you, I guess.” The flowers are making him dizzy. He wants to wrap his fist around the branches and just pull and pull until the wood has been stripped bare, until all that remains are torn petals rotting into the ground.

“I want to wake up.”

“Dean—”

Castiel’s hand on his shoulder. He jerks away. “ _Now._ ”

The night lasts for a moment longer, and then he’s back in the dark of the bunker. In his bed, alone. He stares at nothing, and tries not to wonder where Cas is right now, and tries to ignore the lingering smell of something fresh and floral, and nauseatingly sweet.


End file.
